I debated putting this in my blog, but when I found this gem I decided it just wasn't worth holding it up in my blog where people stumble upon it to call me a "fuck face" after I post something.
No, this needs to be shared with everyone.
When you are looking for some amateur stories you may on occasion stumble on some bad stories. Weak plot, bad writing, plot holes, etc.
Aside from the Doom fanfic I don't think I have found a great combination of all of the above.
I give you Untitled Mystery Detective Story
The last case was over and I tipped my hat over my head. I lit that wonderful cigarette as it dulled the memories of my past life. It was a life of a broken home, no father and no pets. The smoke filled the air just as the dame walked into my office.
The dame had slender legs, because those were the first thing a real gumshoe notices in dames. I slammed my feet on the floor because they were propped against my small desk that is cluttered with old Chinese take-out and newspapers because I don't have a maid. I moved my eyes up her curvatious body taking in all of her scenery. The dame was a scene that's for sure.
"Aren't you going to ask me if I want a drink?" The dame asked me in that sultry voice.
"I was just thinking the same thing doll," I replied. I looked out the window just as I got up for my old wooden chair that I made with my grandfather whenever I went to his farm when I was younger. It was nice to get out of the city every once and a while and grandpa's farm was always the place to go. That was until Johnny's men had him murdered and I swore revenge. Shot down in cold blood. Cold like those cold rainy nights that I spend alone thinking of just one more drink of whisky and one more bullet. I just live a cold hearted life like that, although I could see this dame warming it up for me a little.
Things were black and white and kind of dark too and I could tell that this dame was about the same. Things were black and white with her except that she had blond hair.
"A blonde," I said, "and it isn't even my birthday." The dame slapped me on the face for saying that. I probably deserved that, but I defiantly didn't deserve the pistol whip she gave me afterwards.
When I woke up I was in a stocky warehouse. There was one light over me. Like I was center stage for the show when Johnny arrived. Johnny had it in for me after I took down his gang 3 years ago and I reckon there's a score to settle. Judy, the dame, was probably working for him, probably not. I don't like that kind of betrayal. Too bad too because she had amazing legs.
"So, what a tangled web we weave Mac," Johnny said to me as he was sipping rum.
"I'll get you for killing my grandpa!" I yelled at the bastard a single sold emotion raging in me and all my private detective work just went right out the window. I was ready to become a killer again just like when I was in the war 4 years ago.
"Oh, it shall be I who does the killing. Do you have any last words?"
"Yes, duck!"
Mary hit Johnny in the head just as he turned. I knew it was too late, but Mary was the gal for me and she knew how to pack a punch. Mary and me ran to the docks and I knew I had to let her go.
"Will I ever see you again Mac?"
"You could, but a dick like me has to do his work. Now get on that boat and never look back."
"Kiss me like you kissed Julia."
I kissed her hard and deep like my soul felt after a fresh kill. I had my revenge and it was all thanks to this babe. She got on that plane and I just turned instead of saying my goodbyes.
The Nazi's were a comin' and the only goodbye I could give now was a personal bullet.
Everything went black after that.
Let all of this sink in after you have read it.
Go ahead.
I'll be here.
